


take what you need, say your goodbyes

by nicotinedaydream



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 03:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10481016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicotinedaydream/pseuds/nicotinedaydream
Summary: Some people are born with tragedy in their blood.As fate would have it, Derek Hale just happened to be one of those people.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just felt angsty. No excuses, really. Sorry guys. 
> 
> (Title from the song Beautiful Crime by Tamer. My #1 song for Stiles and Derek at the moment).

Some people are born with tragedy in their blood.

As fate would have it, Derek Hale just happened to be one of those people.

Paige trembling in his arms, choking for each tiny breath death would allow her.

His family being burned alive by a heartless woman, incidentally due to his lovesick reckless mistake of falling for her careful wit and sly charm.

His uncle killing his big sister, his mind possessed by rage and wrongly placed retribution.

Erica and Boyd, their lives blown away like smoke, the same smoke that consumed his lungs the day the fire took everyone he loved.

 _Love_.

"Stop looking at me like I'm dying, man," Stiles rasps, lips coated in the same red liquid that is seeping out of him at an alarming rate.

 _But you are dying_ , he wants to say. _And it's my fault. Again_. He doesn't, though. He just continues to squeeze the boy's hand, his knuckles bleeding white, almost the same alabaster colour as the boy's sweaty, wincing face.

The boy's gotten under his skin, eaten away at every ounce of wariness he'd ever had. Maybe it would have been better if he'd remained wary. He remembers being that person, remembers that it was a solid wall of protection for not only himself but for the ones around him.

When that wall came tumbling down, crumbling away to nothing, so did the protection.

And look what it has done.

Stiles's eyes aren't attentive, they're listless and off-centred, rolling around in their sockets as if they don't know what their use is anymore. The hand clasped around his is lukewarm, grip loose and weakening further still.

Derek tilts the boy's head up, two fingers hooked under his jaw. His fingers linger on the boy's lips, wiping away the slick sheen of sherry-coloured spit from his mouth. The lips curve up to follow the soft, silent movement, red-caked teeth glistening.

Words don't follow that smile. Derek chases the last glimpses of it as it droops and goes lopsided. Lips that once stretched wide in a grin, scrunched up in a pout, lifted halfway in a smirk, are now slack and disused.

Derek eyes the wound that is ripped into the boy's side in the shape of deep claw marks and wonders, unlike this one, if his wound will ever heal.

 _It never does_.


End file.
